


Cinderella, She Seems So Easy ("It Takes One To Know One," She Smiles)

by personalized_radio



Series: I'm Not On Desolation Row [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age of Consent mention, Art School, Desolation Row! Gerard, Frank is still in Jersey, Gerard is in New York, I'm Not Okay! Frank, Love Across State Lines, M/M, Mikey and Ray and Bob mention, New Relationship, Older! Gerard, Sequel, Sex Freak Out, Teenage Insecurity, Teenager! Frank, illegal relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/personalized_radio/pseuds/personalized_radio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See, it was like this. Gerard was older. Not like a couple months, or a year. Not even two years. Gerard was <em>five</em> years older than him. A whole five years. Frank had turned seventeen three months ago, but Gerard was already twenty two and graduating <em>art school</em> soon and he played in one of the best bands Frank had ever heard in his <em>whole life</em>, how was he going to fucking compete with that? </p><p>Frank hadn't learned much in his years of schooling, but he’d learned a lot in his years of <em>being at school</em>, and the number one way to keep a man (okay, so there were no guys he liked at his school because it was a fucking Catholic school where everyone thought he was the antichrist, but the point he'd been making;) was to put out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinderella, She Seems So Easy ("It Takes One To Know One," She Smiles)

**Author's Note:**

> so that gif linked towards the bottom, was a very last minute thing (like I was editing before posting and came across it while distracting myself on tumblr, and i just *fans self*) and this was actually supposed to be freaking porn but it didn't feel right to finish it off with porn like originally planned XD
> 
> enjoy?

“So,” Frank said as casually as he could, picking at the veggie eggrolls Miss Dewees as just set in front of him. Dewees didn't pause getting a glass from the cabinet, so Frank figured he should get it over with as fast as he could, “I think I'm going to let Gerard fuck me but I need a condom.”  
Miss Dewees lost her footing and fell into James’ back, the glass tumbler he’d been planning to fill with soy milk slipped from his limp fingers and shattered against the counter.  
“Surprise!” Frank said with as much enthusiasm as he could, even adding spirit fingers.  
Miss Dewees made a loud noise of unknown emotion and hid her face in James’ shoulder.  
James just sighed loudly.  
-  
See, it was like this. Gerard was older. Not like a couple months, or a year. Not even two years. Gerard was _five_ years older than him. A whole five years. Frank had turned seventeen three months ago, but Gerard was already twenty two and graduating _art school_ soon and he played in one of the best bands Frank had ever heard in his _whole life_ , how was he going to fucking compete with that? Frank needed to keep Gerard’s interest, because if he lost Gerard he wasn't quite sure what he’d do. Frank was of the opinion that there were some people that came into your life, very rarely, and when you first meet eyes, you just _knew_ that that person was going to be in your life forever, or would be a huge part of it. Gerard was like that. Mikey and Ray and Bob were like that. They were going to _mean_ something to Frank, they already _did_ and he had to keep Gerard interested until he turned eighteen and could do what the fuck ever he wanted and he could really show him that he was worth keeping around.  
Frank hadn't learned much in his years of schooling, but he’d learned a lot in his years of _being at school_ , and the number one way to keep a man (okay, so there were no guys he liked at his school because it was a fucking Catholic school where everyone thought he was the antichrist, but the point he'd been making;) was to put out.  
Now, one might think that, being a virgin, Frank was nervous. Frank wasn't nervous. Frank was hot. Frank knew he was hot. Frank was a solid fucking nine, and he’d be a ten when he could finally get his piercings and tattoos, okay? Frank was an attractive, independent dude who did not have a single fucking doubt about having sex with his overage (as it turns out, under eighteen is still not legal age of consent when they live in different states, who knew?) boyfriend who lived two hours away in a different state in a huge city surrounded by (not more attractive, but certainly similarly attractive) people at _art school_ and _illegal rock shows_. Not a single one. So he wasn't nervous. Not a single, little bit nervous. He was just….thinking of all the different ways he could go about...doing the things he wanted to do.  
“Frankie?”  
Gerard’s voice was tinny over the shitty connection but the small apartment he and Mikey (and sometimes Ray and Bob when their landlord was being a dick) had shit service and Frank’s phone was a dinosaur anyway. It was all he really had since he couldn't get his mom to drive him to New York every weekend to see his illegal boyfriend she didn't know shit about and Dewees’ car had given out finally though, so he didn't complain.  
“Sorry, what, I was-shit-” Frank struggled with the phone and keeping his school work lined up properly on the bed so he could do it in order of importance for a few seconds before he righted himself, “Sorry, sorry, I fucked up, but I fixed it.”  
“Yeah?” Gerard asked, amusement dripping from his voice, “You sure, sugar? I wouldn't want to distract you. School’s important, you know? Education and shit.”  
“Not distracted,” Frank said firmly, “So, totally, not distracted.”  
“Good.” Gerard dropped the flirty tone and sounded stupidly fond as he continued, “Now tell me about your day.”  
Frank blushed, tried to find the right way to say, _All I thought about today was how to make sure you kept your attention on me even though you're two hours away and across a state line in a city full of chicks and guys prettier and better than me, and the only solution I came up with was giving you my fucking virginity_ , without sounding like an insecure teenager.  
He was not an insecure teenager, so he sucked it up and said, “Boring, same old same old. Nun hit me with a ruler, Dewees laughed for an hour, daydreamed about you whisking me away to a My Chem show. Whatever.”  
Gerard just laughed, dorky and honking and _fuck_ , Frank missed his stupid face. They hadn’t been face to face in three weeks.  
“You're a nerd.” Gerard said with conviction, “But I still think you're cute.”  
“Well, jeez-louise, thank you.” Frank batted his eyelashes, knowing it would translate through his tone, “So glad you like my nerd.”  
“I really, really do.” Gerard’s voice didn't waver into the flirting tone he used to tease Frank, but he sounded sure and fond and _happy_ and that’s all Frank wanted to make him sound like forever.  
“Good. I really, really like you to.” Frank tried not to stutter and kept it solid, if a little flustered, “Now tell me about your day. You had that big project due, right? The first part of your final project?”  
“Oh, fuck, Frankie, I gotta tell you about this,” Gerard said, voice moving on to annoyed and fast paced and excited, just like Gerard.  
Frank shut up, shoved the crying emo in his head into his emo corner with his poetry and shit and listened to his boyfriend tell him about his day.  
-  
“Dumplin’,” Miss Dewees said carefully, “My sweet honey child, light of my life, apple of my eye, you're just killin’ me.”  
“Sorry,” Frank said automatically, because usually when she used that tone, he was in the wrong, but then he shook his head, “Wait, no, I’m not-stop it! I'm not doing anything bad here!”  
“It’s just,” James said carefully, “I mean, Frankie. That’s sort of illegal. He could go to jail for rape if you guys get out’ed.”  
“Yeah,” Frank said reasonably, “But who would out us? He’s got shit on his band, no one else knows about us except them and you guys. And you won’t tell.”  
“Yeah, but like,” James said and then trailed of, “Aw, fuck. Fine.”  
“What? No, not fine,” Miss Dewees shook her finger at Frank, “I have a feeling I know what this is about and if it is, I am going to whack you on the head, mister.”  
“No,” Frank shook his head, “I mean, maybe. Not really. A little bit. Yes. Shut up, stop playing mind games with me.”  
“I’m not playing anything with you, Frankie.” Miss Dewees set on the other side of the island, across from him. James went back and forth for a few seconds and then settled between them, in neutral territory.  
“Just tell me,” She offered her hands and Frank could never turn her down so he took them and she squeezed them tight, artificial orange tan to his natural and perfectly pink painted nails to his chipped, black ones, “Just tell me that this isn't some ploy to keep his attention and I will go out and buy you condoms and lube and whatever the fuck else you think you’ll need for this. Look me in the eye and tell me.”  
Frank tried looking into her eyes, kind and brown like James’, but couldn’t say a thing.  
“I-” he licked his lips and looked at the table, “It isn't _just_ a ploy.” he tried, “I really do want to have sex with him.”  
“Frankie,” James said seriously, “If he’s tried to pressure you, I'll kick his ass, I mean it,”  
“No!” Frank shook his head, “He hasn't even mentioned it! It’s just…”  
“It’s just he’s an older musician in _art school_ ,” Miss Dewees said sympathetically.  
“Who lives in a different state, in a big city, surrounded by prettier people who are better and more available and less likely to get him arrested for having sex with his boyfriend,” Frank finished sadly.  
“No one is prettier than you,” Dewees said loyally.  
“Thanks, James.” Frank offered his knuckles and Dewees bumped their fists together.  
“No problem, bro.” Dewees nodded.  
“Frankie,” Miss Dewees said firmly, squeezing the hand she’d been able to keep while he and her son were having their broment again, “If _sex_ is what is going to keep him around, you don't want him around in the first place.”  
“I know,” Frank said weakly, “I _know_ that, Miss D. I’m not a kid. I'm not dumb, or insecure, or-or-”  
“But,” She nodded, looking understanding. And she _did_ understand. Dewees was proof of that. “ _Knowing_ isn't the same.”  
“It really sucks.” Frank looked at the counter, poking at the cooling eggroll carefully, “It really, really sucks. I don't want to lose him. I just found him.”  
“He isn't worth keeping.” Dewees spoke up, sounding sure, “He really isn't, if you think the only way to keep him interested is having sex with him.”  
“Dewees,” Frank shook his head, “Dewees, Gerard is _perfect_. Every fucked up thing about him is amazing! I love that I can text him when I'm feeling like shit and he knows what I'm talking about and I love that he’s so strong with the drinking thing and I love texting Mikey because Mikey’s fucking great, and I love jamming with Ray and Bob, and I really, really like him. I really, really…”  
Frank covered his face, rubbing his eye sockets with his palms until the world had faded into a smudge of gray-green spots, “Shit.” he said, voice cracking, “I’m such a fucking girl.”  
“And what’s wrong with that?” Miss Dewees said, smacking his shoulder, “You're a teenager. It’s your first love. It’s okay to be a little freaked, Frank.”  
“I _know_ ,” Frank said desperately, sniffing hard, “I _know_ all of that, but it’s still so _hard_ to…”  
“Why don't you talk to Gerard,” James said haltingly, looking at his mom to make sure his advice was solid before he finished it off, “Like, you're obviously pretty torn up about it and if he cares about you nearly as much as you care about him, he'll do whatever he can to _fix_ it. Possibly something that doesn't involve fucking. Yet.”  
Frank nodded, shrugged and nodded again, “Yeah, I probably should have done that in the first place. I'm the worst.”  
“You're a teenager,” She said firmly, standing up to get the broom and start cleaning up the shattered tumbler.  
“Teenagers scare the shit out of him,” Frank sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Ugh. I didn't even fucking cry but my eyes are stinging like crazy.”  
“Eye magic,” Dewees said sagely, “The sting is telling you to call your lady love.”  
“Gerard isn't a lady, asshole.” Frank said huffily, but they stood up and hugged it out pretty fucking hard.  
“Thanks, man.” Frank muttered, squeezing as hard as he could. Dewees was bigger and stronger and fucking taller though, so his squeezing actually took Frank’s breath away.  
“Anytime, home skillet biscuit.”  
“...never call me that again.” Frank laughed, shaky and nervous but still with a feeling of relief blooming in his chest. He was going to call Gerard and talk about it. It was okay to talk about it. It was okay to be insecure with everything because he was _allowed_ to do that. He didn't have to be daring rebel punk all the time. He could be, just, himself. Frank. He didn't have to front. Not for Gerard. He was nervous and he was scared, and that was okay. He'd known that from the beginning, had listened to all the lectures and advice, but for the first time, he was actually okay with believing it too.  
“Mom?” Frank called when he got home. Miss Dewees had dropped him off, Dewees’ car still in the shop ‘til he’d worked enough hours at the comic shop to pay off getting it fixed. No one answered his call and the house was dark so he walked into the kitchen looking for his mom’s work schedule.  
The calendar on the fridge said she was taking the night shift this month so she'd be home in the morning when he was leaving for school (which was weird because it was Friday, meaning she'd lost track of the days again) and had already left. It sucked that she was gone so long, being alone in the big house they'd inherited from his dead great-great-aunt made him lonely (he spent a lot of time at Dewees’ and he had set a two-nights-a-week limit for himself so he didn't eat them out of house and home and somehow wear out his unlimited welcome) and he missed seeing her. But working night shift meant she got to sleep more and had a little more downtime, and on tuesdays and thursdays, they got a solid four hours together before before she had to go back to the hospital and she wasn't as zombie-like when he got to see her, so that was one thing.  
It was Friday though, one of his favorite days, and usually he’d be at Dewees’ (because everyone knew that Friday through Sunday didn't count as a weekday so he could stay all weekend without it infringing on his ‘two-nights’ rule) but he wanted privacy incase this fucking phone call turned into a blood (tear) bath.  
“Shit, okay.”  
His hand shook as he pulled his phone out and, seeing a text from Mikey, opened it without hesitation and read the ‘saw this thought of u’ before he clicked the link. It opened his browser and took him to Tumblr, where a video of a punk rock leprechaun cursing out a group of nuns, both birds raised to the sky and nearly unintelligible under the thick irish accent started playing. He shot off a ‘haha v funny’ back, reblogged the video and, being on Tumblr, did what all Tumblr account holders did, and started going through his dash. Nearly an hour later, he grew bored and, after a quick sniff test, decided that he really, really needed a shower. Right then.  
So he went to the bathroom, stripped and scrubbed himself raw to get rid of the smell of locker room and the Catholic shame the students and teachers told him he should be covered in. He spent nearly half an hour on that alone before he washed his hair. The water was running cold by the time he got out and, to save time in the morning, he blow dried and straightened his hair, brushed his teeth, repainted his nails and then chipped them properly and finally decided to practice his eyeliner technique. He'd convinced his mom to let him pierce and gage his ears for his birthday and it was a couple days earlier than what was recommended but fuck it, so he decided to change the gages out for the next size. It fucking hurt for a few seconds and then settled into a familiar sting so he didn’t worry.  
He dressed in warm clothes when he was done, because January was still cold and the heater wasn't working quite right since the snow storm in December had fucked it all up. Finally, finally, he pulled his phone out and couldn't think of anything else he needed to do before he called Gerard.  
“Fuck, okay, here goes.”  
Gerard was number five on his speed dial, after the automatic number one, his mom, Miss Dewees and then James but Frank decided to go about it the long way instead. He clicked over to the menu, found his phone book, manually scrolled through the name and number of nearly every person he’d ever known (mostly family, a few friends, Pencey and their friends, teachers who should never have given their numbers out and a few take out places) until he reached the very end at the bottom, where Gerard’s number was under the name ‘ <3’ because it was Frank’s phone and Frank could put it under whatever the fuck he wanted to. As long as no one ever got into it. Speaking of.  
He exited out of everything and went about setting up a password on the lockscreen, something he’d remember but no one else except maybe Dewees would. He finally settled on the year Bouncing Souls got together and then reopened his menu, his phonebook, scrolled to ‘<3’ and opened it to reveal the number under a picture of Gerard performing. Mikey had snapped it during one of their last shows and sent it to him since Frank hadn’t been able to get to New York to see it himself. He touched the number and it popped up along with a symbol for text and call and his thumb hovered over the ‘call’ symbol.  
“Okay, Frank.” He said to himself, “Man the fuck up. What’s the worst that can happen? Nothing. Nothing bad will happen. Gerard fucking likes you and you like Gerard and Gerard would never pressure you into sleeping with him. Get your fucking shit together.”  
He pressed on the icon, but couldn't make his thumb lift to complete the action.  
“Fuck.” He seethed, “Do it.”  
He lifted his thumb.  
The doorbell rang.  
He canceled the call before Gerard’s picture had even loaded under the ‘calling’ scrawled across the screen, “Oh, fuck, thank God.”  
He walked downstairs calmly, feeling his nerves prickling with a ‘just escaped’ feeling, like he’d gotten sick on the day of the test review so he had been excused from taking the test for another day.  
He stopped in front of his door, scrubbed a hand through his hair and wondered what Dewees had forgotten that was so important that he come all the way over.  
“Hey, man, what-Gerard!”  
“Frankie!”  
Gerard grinned, big and wide and shit he was still as pretty as ever. His hair was windblown and covered in a little bit of the flurries falling gently from the gray sky and his sunglasses were covering most of his face and his mouth was wide with a crooked smile. Frank didn’t hesitate to lean forward and kiss him. It was too dark for the neighbors young enough to actually see to not be able to very well and if they were that young, they weren't about to go ratting on him to his mom, so what the fuck ever.  
Gerard kissed him back, sweet and hot and _amazing_ after so long without.  
“Surprise, sugar,” He nearly purred against Frank’s lips, which just made Frank giggle.  
“You didn't say you were coming.” Frank pulled him into the marginally warmer house and shut the door behind him, locking it up and stuffing the draft stopper closer just in case.  
“That was the surprise part of ‘surprise, sugar’,” Gerard agreed, pulling off his leather (faux-leather, Frank thought with a flush, because Gerard had stopped wearing the real leather one around him) jacket to hang on the rack along with his keys.  
“Smart ass.” Frank laughed, feeling giddy and pleased, nerves long forgotten. Gerard was _there_ , with him, _finally_ , now so wasn’t the time to deal with serious talk or stupid shit when they could actually be _together_ or a little bit.  
“I remembered you said your mom was on night shift and I figured, it was Friday so…”  
“How’d you know I wouldn't be at Dewees’?” He asked casually, taking Gerard’s loose hand to lead him to the kitchen. He'd start some coffee, get him warmed up.  
“I actually texted him first, so I could keep it a secret. He said you were home.” Gerard shrugged, sitting at the counter while Frank went about setting up the coffee machine, “Actually, he said you had something you wanted to talk to me about. Said you were actually gonna call later on or something.”  
“Shit,” Frank hissed, jumping away from the sink, where he’d just dropped and shattered a glass measuring cup, “Shit,”  
His fingers were bleeding and he’d just broken a measuring cup. Luckily it was the old, shitty one that his mom didn't really like but Frank had always used since before his dad had left.  
“Frank!” Gerard hurried around the counter and to his side, pulling his fingers up so he could look at them, “Are you okay?”  
“Y-yeah,” Frank nodded hard, “Just fucking dropped the cup. Clumsy.” He laughed awkwardly, but didn't resist when Gerard grabbed a thick dish towel from the oven and scooped the glass out of the sink to throw away. He started the tap again and ran it over Frank’s fingers gentle, letting it hit his own fingers first to reduce the water pressure. It stung a little but the water was cold and quickly numbed the shallow cuts and washed the blood away to show three small slices along his middle and index fingers.  
“Got any band aids?”  
“Yeah, up in that cupboard,” Frank pointed with his free hand and Gerard moved to grab the first aid kit. He pulled out three bandaids and a little bit of fluffy gauze, along with a tube of neosporin before he hurried over to turn the tap off and wipe the last of the blood away from the sluggish cuts with the gauze.  
When he’d covered them in the medicine and placed the bandaids correctly around Frank’s fingers, he nodded at the counter, “Why don't you sit, sugar. I'll finish the coffee.”  
“I'm sorry,” Frank said, flushing and flustered, “I’m really sorry, I just-”  
“It’s okay,” Gerard said, leaning down for a soft, calming kiss, “Just sit. I'll do this. I’ve done it thousands of times.”  
Frank nodded meekly and set, watched as Gerard found the newer (plastic) measuring cups and set about making the coffee. Finally, when the water and coffee grinds had been put in place and the machine was percolating, Gerard joined him at the counter. Frank didn't want to talk, not yet, so he leaned forward and kissed him instead. Gerard obviously knew something was afoot, but he kissed him back anyway. They made out until the machine beeped and Gerard pulled away to find the mugs and make each of them a cup. Frank was pleased to see that, though Gerard didn't make his exactly like Frank liked his, they were similar enough to not be completely disgusting to the other.  
“So,” Gerard said with a raised eyebrow, “Why don't we go to the living room and have that talk Dewees mentioned.”  
“Well, I mean, we could,”  
“Frankie.” Gerard smiled a little, “It’s okay.”  
“...fine, okay, yeah.” Frank nodded, “We'll go to the-let’s go to my room instead. Is that okay?”  
“Whatever you want, sugar.” Gerard nodded, not a hint of flirting in his voice. It made Frank’s nerves settle a little, which was a good thing.  
Frank led him to his room, their fingers tangled together loosely while Frank gave him a rough tour of the upstairs.  
“Down that way is my mom’s room, and that’s the bathroom and uh, this is mine.”  
He opened the door, biting his lip. He should have fucking cleaned, but there wasn't anything super embarrassing out so it was okay. The worst thing visible was his guitar magazines but it wasn't like Gerard would judge him for _those_ of all things.  
“I like it.” Gerard said quietly after he’d walked to the center of the room and turned full circle to get a look. He settled on the edge of Frank’s bed and, after a second of thought, Frank settled next to him. He crawled to the top and bit his lip before he took a breath and patted the spot next to him.  
“Lay with me?” He asked nervously.  
Gerard smiled, endeared and stupid and it made Frank feel a lot better, that he could still get Gerard to look at him like that after almost three months of seeing each other. Their coffee was going to get cold, side by side on the bedside table, but it was the last thing on Frank’s mind with _Gerard_ in his room, alone with him and perfect.  
Gerard moved up on the bed, stretching before he relaxed onto his back, turned on his side and rested his head on his folded arm so he could look at Frank. Frank mirrored his position, pressed closer to him and sighed a little when Gerard rested his free arm over his waist.  
“Frankie, tell me what’s wrong?”  
Frank tangled his hand in Gerard’s shirt, stroked the faded lines of Darth Maul’s face with a freshly painted-and-chipped nail, “It’s really hard.”  
“Talking?”  
“Being here with you in New York. I trust you, Gee, you know I do, I’d be an idiot not to, you're perfect. You're literally the best thing ever and I just, I feel like such shit for even,”  
“Frankie,” Gerard hushed him, pressing their mouths together slow and soft until Frank’s breathe had evened out again, “Frankie, do you think I’ve been cheating on you?”  
“No!” Frank said almost too loud in the quiet of the house, “Not at all! I just...I just, New York is so big and full of people who are hotter and smarter and _older_ than I'll ever be. You can fucking-kiss them in public without it being sketchy and on the front page of the fucking New York Times and hold hands and see them every day and-and fucking have _sex_ without being _arrested_ and-and-”  
“Frank,” Gerard said firmly, “Frankie, I have been in New York for four years and never have I seen anyone as pretty as you.” he kissed Franks’ cheeks, one after another, “Or as smart,” he kissed Frank’s forehead, “Or as amazing,” he kissed his lips, managed to tease Frank into kissing back desperately, “Or as _worth_ being arrested over. And if there _were_ , I wouldn't want them.”  
“Why not?” Frank said quietly, “Why the fuck are you wasting your time with me, Gerard? You're hot, you’re talented, you're a fucking literary genius, your lyrics are beautiful and your _art_ -”  
“Doesn't mean shit.” Gerard said firmly, “None of that means _anything_ if I don't have the people I care about with me, Frank. I'm not _wasting_ time with you, sugar. I could never _waste_ anything with you. You're one of the best things to happen to me in my life. You make me _happy_ , Frank. Do you know how strange that is? To actually be _happy_ about getting a text or getting to spend hours talking to someone over the phone? I used to lose my phone on purpose just so no one could get into contact with me, and now I have it on vibrate all the time, just so I don’t miss one of your texts. I don't care how old you are, Frankie, that doesn’t matter to me.”  
Frank rubbed his face, closed his eyes for a few seconds to just try and breathe. He was getting choked up, and he didn't know how to calm down. Gerard began stroking his back, soothing up and down movements along his spine.  
“I…” Frank bit his lip, “I don't know what to do, Gee. It’s so intense. I want to see you all the time and I obviously can’t. Worse, I'm scared I'll lose your attention being all the way in fucking Belleville while you're in New York. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose any of you.”  
“How could I possibly want fucking anything else in the world,” Gerard asked seriously, “When I have you? Have you seen yourself? Or heard yourself talk? Fuck, just listening to you play guitar or sing makes me fall head over heels every time. You're perfect, Frank, every part of you.”  
“I-” Frank felt his face flush, and he fucking wished so much that those words were enough, could convince him as much as he wanted them to. He didn't doubt Gerard, didn't doubt for a single second that Gerard was being serious and completely honest. But there were just so many different people out there. Someone exactly like Frank, except he didn't have a pox scar on his nose and he wasn't so short and there wasn't a few extra layers of skin around his waist, and his face wasn't as wide or weirdly spaced, and his last name wasn't fucking _Iero_.  
Someone who could love Gerard like he deserved to be loved and could do it legally.  
“Shit, Gee,” he tried to say, though his voice broke a little. He leaned up, kissing Gerard once, twice, three times, just wanting to kiss him forever.  
“I was going to seduce you,” He admitted after a few minutes of gentle, slow kisses being exchanged. It wasn't like their usual routines, passionate and hard and rough, but it felt like what Frank needed, enough for him to actually say what he’d been trying to hide since Gerard had shown up.  
“You, what,” Gerard blinked open his eyes, hazy but aware, “Seduce me?”  
“Seduce you,” Frank confirmed, “I was going to seduce you so you wouldn't lose interest before I was eighteen and could go to New York with you. It was really dumb.”  
“Not dumb,” Gerard shook his head, “Just...you don't have to _seduce_ me to keep my eyes on you. What kind of douche do you think I am?”  
“Ugh, I don't think you're a douche,” Frank shook his head and rubbed his eyes again, “It seriously isn't anything you do, Gerard, you're perfect. It’s me. It’s all in my head.”  
“Frankie,” He brought Frank’s hand to his lips and kissed each of his knuckles, didn't stop the gentle touches until Frank looked up at him, “Frankie, when we have sex, I want it to be because we _want_ to, not because one of us thinks it’s necessary.”  
“I want to have sex with you!” Frank burst out, nervous for an entirely different reason now, “I definitely want to have sex with you, Gee. I’ve gotten off with people before, yeah, and to tell you the truth if we'd gotten away that night at the show before it got ruined by the police, I probably would have given you my virginity then. Because you were hot and interesting and you seemed like you liked me, and I'm a stupid, insecure teenager.” He hid his face in Gerard’s chest, listened to his elevated heartbeat and tried to calm his flaming face, “But now, I want to have sex with you because you're a dork and you laugh whenever you want and your smile makes my heart do stupid things. And you read Doom Patrol and like the same music as me and you drink coffee like it’s your lifeline,” He cut off and groaned because he was such an _idiot_ , “I don't just want to have sex with you to keep you with me, even though that was...something I thought about. I want to do it because I really, really _like_ you, and I want to make you feel like how I feel.”  
Gerard tilted his head up and kissed him. It wasn't like any of the kisses before now, not since the kiss at the show. It was _hot_ , wanting and longing and wet. Gerard cupped his jaw, moved his hand to Frank's hair and tugged until Frank couldn't hold back a moan, trailed over the back of his neck and down his shivering back. Finally, it stopped at the hem of his shirt and pressed cool fingers to the hot skin of his hip, his side and back, anywhere Gerard could reach when he splayed his hand.  
Frank broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, even the hand on his side nearly overwhelming. The room was hot, nearly burning him up and his clothes were restricting _everything_.  
"Fuck, Frankie, you drive me _crazy_ ," Gerard whispered, "Just touching you like has me fucking hard. Do you get it?"  
"G-get it?" Frank asked dazedly, clutching at Gerard's sleeve with tense fingers.  
"You don't need to _seduce_ me, Frank. I'm already seduced. Just you smiling at me turns my knees to jelly."  
Frank shuddered and pressed forward, kissing him again, "Fuck, Gee, I-"  
"We don't have to," Gerard said firmly, "We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. You don't need to do anything to-to impress me or keep me coming back. You're all I need, understand?"  
"Shit, Gee," Frank closed his eyes, felt the doubts dissipate the closer his thigh got to the hardness in Gerard's pants. _He'd_ done that, and he hadn't even _touched_ him.  
They didn't fuck, didn't even get off together. Gerard went to the bathroom and while he was gone, Frank buried his face in the pillows and made his body calm down.  
They watched movies and drank another pot of coffee. Gerard was just as flirty and teasing as usual but Frank didn't feel like he _had_ to follow through with the flirting. It was just playful and fun, a promise of something more, but only when Frank was ready.  
"You really are perfect," he mumbled into Gerard's shoulder when they had settled into his bed in the early hours of the morning. He'd have to leave soon, Frank's mom would be home a little after sunrise and Gerard couldn't be seen, but that was still an hour or two off and until then, Frank had him all to himself.  
“Not really,” Gerard said, amused, “But thank you.”  
Frank sighed and hid his face in the pillow, pressed back against Gerard so they were pressed together, “Stay until I go to sleep?”  
“Anything,” Gerard said firmly, “Anything you want.”  
“I just want you,” Frank said honestly, drowsy and warm and feeling _safe_.  
“You have me.” Frank closed his eyes to lips gently trailing over the back of his neck and Gerard’s arm around his waist, “Go to sleep, sugar.”  
“‘night, Gee.” Frank yawned, tangled their fingers together and went to sleep.  
Gerard didn't leave when Frank’s mom got home. Frank knew he should have been pissed, but getting to kiss Gerard at his window, seeing him in proper morning light, getting to have a _morning after_ , if one that was a little unconventional, made his stomach flutter. They stood by his window and smoked, the first cigarette Frank had been able to get a hold of in nearly three days. He wanted to savor it, fucking enjoy the drug rushing through his blood again after so long, but he couldn't take his eyes from Gerard. [Gerard looked at him, not smiling but still fond, taking a drag slowly and holding it for a few seconds. He rocked forward a little, not taking his eyes from Frank’s face and pursed his lips, breathed the smoke out and into Frank’s face.](http://theinfinitesadness.co.vu/post/100549379317) Frank couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering as he inhaled, quiet and intimate and _shit_.  
They made out for nearly an hour, shotgunning the last of their cigarettes to each other until they were merely filters before Frank pulled Gerard closer and let him pin his smaller body to the bed and kiss the shit out of him.  
Finally though, Gerard really did have to go, before Frank’s mom woke up and this nice day turned into a really, really bad one.  
Watching Gerard fall out of the tree and limp away while his mom knocked on his door loudly and asked if he’d fallen out of bed again was probably one of the best endings to the day he could image.


End file.
